« Every act has a motive. Any idea is just a way. Virtue is only the instrument of our power. Our agents make you believe that they make your life more acceptable, with their social benefits, their products, their screens, their rights. That is the art of politics. They advocate equality, democracy, justice, exclusively to crush you. (page 65) »

« "There's something that's in your house," said the pensioner. Aren't you afraid of what's going on? It's like you don't look concerned. As if you already knew the end of the story. Pol Pot sharpened his best smile. "I am that for you white people, our wisdom is like madness." The Colonel's gaze encouraged him to develop. Incense stung his eyes and flames snored in the old stove. It was just over midnight. "Why should I be afraid? I have no children and I don't need to live because mine have made a thousand million children. No one can do anything about that amount. I am only a brick in a wall, a mesh of tapestry, and I dead my descendants will still be there. That's why I'm not afraid. You white people should be afraid. But you're crazy, so... You are old and no longer have children. » `...` "You think this weapon that helps you sleep better will save you, but I don't believe it. If yours are gone, you won't be saved. A republic has a future only for the children of its women. You white people get your glory out of your ideas. You forget to live, and your ideas will kill you. And you burn those who warn you. The mixture whose idea makes you so proud poisons your people, and will annihilate you. You will disappear, dissolve in what you are, in those others that you believe you save... Your race is pride, it carries its death. In his technological bowels, in the rudder of his ideas. She is this titanic ship that defies nature and gods, then dark and gets lost forever. » `...` "I believe that the West screams and agits in vain, like an infant abandoned on the shore before the tide. And we'll still be here in a thousand years. We will have seen as the wise the corpses of our enemies pass. Sooner or later, everything will dissolve in our number and our unity. So maybe tomorrow your soldiers will come and save you again, that your doctors and merchants will soften the end of your life. But deep down, I think your race is over. Depressed by his frenzy, stifled by his superiority. You no longer have the weapons for this life, and little by little you will give it up. » »

« All of us in the Party live on a fundamental hypocrisy: to advocate the rejection of power and hierarchy, to have power and to be at the top of the hierarchy. Our morals have nothing to do with reality. There's nothing easier than fooling yourself. (page 64) »